The Brave Human Mate

19.

* * ☾ * *

Healer Rhea's POV

The day following the King's outrage at losing so much of his product had become wildly apparent, Osmin had come into the tent and scolded Rhea for speaking with the King without him. But she rolled her eyes and pointed to the dozens of makeshift beds that she and Lillian had made.

All of which, were filled and other patients were awaiting their chance.

Clearly, this illness was starting to take over, and Lillian no longer called it a theory or belief—She started to call it for what it is, an illness. And Goddess have mercy on them all, for when they were going to admit that Rhea has lost the child—All because of this illness.

It was a plan conceded on the walk back from the King's tent, but Lillian couldn't think of an alternative—Though did support this aspect, as hiding the smell of a bleeding week was too much.

However, it occurred to Rhea that when Osmin did stay the night over, he hadn't noticed the scent change when she was surprised that very morning to see the prepared rags held a few spots.

"Osmin has a very good nose, he will pick it up easily," Lillian explained, but Rhea rubbed her face, trying to work herself up into the position of utter depression—She wasn't ignorant enough to know the pain a woman went through when losing their child, and she wasn't unfamiliar with a miscarriage or stillbirth, as they did come a few times within a year.

But Rhea was prepared to make it just what Lillian had called it, a sob story. A part of the former Queen knew that her survival past this was little to none, but she was already acceptant of the fact that she was living on borrowed time.

She accepted that this would right her wrongs, that this would allow the humans here to possibly get the chance to escape. If this is enough to distract them from what her new motive would be, then so be it.

Who would take into consideration the rambles of a woman in mourning?

The plan was simple, as Lillian collected the multiple rags Rhea had used, and deluded it with water to have more appear before Rhea had laid down in bed. "You're sure this will work?"

"No, but your debt will never be paid. Not with that mad King in control of it." Rhea claimed, unsure as to whether or not Lillian would continue to the very end or escape without a second thought.

What they needed, was Osmin's support. And it may or may not come in the form of the death of this pup—One could only hope.

With all the signs of a miscarriage in place, Rhea had run through the possibilities of challenging the very signs of what a woman might react—But in her position, it was all too easy to let the tears flow.

"If we get out of this alive, Rhea—I'm buying you a drink." She teased, and Rhea choked out a smile—Wondering if this would be her first real friend out of everything that's happened.

Or at least, the first real friend since Romulus.

"Think a pitcher would do nicely, you buy a drink, I'll buy dinner." With that, she rushed out a few gasps of air before she rushed forward and proceeded just as intended. In a pure and utter panic to get ahold of the King and Osmin.

Within mere moments, Rhea could feel the two males entering the tent, their stocking aura was strong—Even through the walls separating them now. And just as she dragged out a sniffle and a slight moan of pain, the privacy sheet had been rushed aside as Osmin fell to the ground.

"Rhea—W-what's happened? Lillian said—" The tears had fallen too easy, too quickly as Rhea had only shaken her head in the pretend devastation that plagued her soul. But it surprised her how Osmin was feeling, had the male been excited about a pup?
A child to call his own?